I feel like I've been watching Irwin Corey forever. I saw him in the 1950s, and I thought he was old then.

Every time someone says, 'You know, we really ought to get together,' if I were really honest, I would ask 'Why?'

I think I'd be pretty easy to write for.

Why anyone, by dying, should thereby be declared beyond criticism, innocent of wrongdoing, suddenly filled with virtue and above reproach escapes me.

I'm not all that enthralled by show business, and I'm not that much of a highbrow.

Statistically, I'd say comedy writers are perhaps the sanest category of show people. And why not? They make big money, and although it's not an easy trade - particularly when you're at your galley oar five days a week - it's easier on the nerves and the psyche than living with the brain-squeezing pressure and cares of being the Star.

The greatest benefit of depression is the fact that when I have talked about it, every so often someone comes up and says, you saved my dad's life.